


Enough

by starwarned



Series: Fictober 2020 [9]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fictober, Fictober 2020, Fluff, M/M, Prosetober 2020, as per usual, prosetober, sweet soft boys and baz getting in his head about how much he loves simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26927362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Fictober Day 9Prompt: "and that they dance" (Mary Oliver)Simon falls asleep and Baz gets introspective.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Fictober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951321
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this technically like 2 hours after midnight but I'm still awake and I didn't start writing until like 8 pm so I'm still counting it 
> 
> prompt is from [this list](https://drawingdawnart.tumblr.com/post/629280324527013888/some-of-my-artists-friends-and-i-felt-like-we) on tumblr!

Simon shifts in his sleep and his feet kick out and nail me in the thigh. I grunt and look at Simon with exasperation like he’s actually conscious of his actions right now. I shift to the left a bit and lift up Simon’s feet so they lay over my lap and he’s not likely to kick me again.

Simon’s been asleep for approximately an hour now and I’ve made quite a bit of progress on my book, which I’ve been meaning to catch up on for a while. I tend to spend most of my waking hours at Simon’s flat and when I’m with him, my hands are far too preoccupied to be turning pages. 

In addition, that poor boy doesn’t get nearly enough sleep. He stays up late (even when I’ve already fallen asleep in his bed or on his lap) watching movies or playing games on his phone and no matter how late he’s up, he wakes up at an ungodly hour. Sometimes that translates to three hours of sleep and maybe a ten-minute power nap later in the day. 

Today he’s breaking that pattern and has been napping for a while. If I play my cards right, I think I can sneak out and let him sleep until the morning. 

I’m sure I’ll receive a frantic text at dawn from him demanding why I left without waking him up. 

Simon twitches and I set my book down for a moment so I can look at him. He’s always a lovely sight to behold but I’ve a habit of looking at him while he’s sleeping and is unaware of my gaze. He’s breathing out of his mouth (as usual) and his hair has gotten so long on the top that it’s hanging down into his face and his breath blows it back and forth. He’s sleeping as he typically does, his arms tightly wound around each other and pressed into his chest. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t been kicking me more. 

As much as I love spending conscious time with Simon (snogging him and watching dodgy horror movies and explaining the concept of economics to him), just knowing that he’s there is enough. Just knowing that Simon Snow is alive and is  _ so much _ is enough for me. 

Hence why I’m not upset that Simon fell asleep quickly after I knocked on the door to his flat. Penelope’s out tonight so I think I expected to at least get a little snogging in before he knocked out but I’ve come to not expect anything from him. Some days it’s fine - he kisses me with the confidence that I’ve come to know and love from him, he lets me touch him and hold him, and he’s pliant and comfortable. Some days he can’t do more than hold my hand or put his knee against my leg when we’re sitting on the sofa together. 

I’ve waited years for him. I spent years thinking that I would meet my maker with Simon’s blade running through my chest and  _ I love you, Simon Snow  _ on my lips. I’ll take whatever I can. I’ll wait forever. 

Simon shifts in his sleep again and I have half a mind to pick him up and take him to his room so he’s not still asleep on the couch when Penelope gets home, but I think better of it. He says it unnerves him when he wakes up in a different place than when he fell asleep. And if I jostle him too much, he’ll wake up, and I don’t want him to think I’m  _ soft  _ on him or anything.

I place my hand on Simon’s ankle and he shifts and hums, his eyes starting to flutter open. I curse myself for not keeping my hands to myself and letting him sleep for longer, but he’s warm and he’s already looking at me with those sleepy eyes and I melt. 

“Good morning, love,” I say softly, running my fingers along his exposed ankle and calf from where his joggers have ridden up. 

“Cold,” he complains, tugging his leg away from my lap and tucking it up towards his chest. 

I just latch onto his other ankle instead and wrap both my hands around it so he can’t tug it away even though he really does try. 

“Baz,” he whines sleepily, trying to reach his arm over far enough to swat at me. (His arms aren’t nearly long enough but it does make me laugh). 

I finally give in and let go of him so he can tuck his legs up and glare at me. 

“You’re a prick,” he says, just a hint of a smile playing across his sleepy features. 

I shrug. (A habit I’ve picked up from my lovely boyfriend). 

Simon sits up and runs his hand through his hair, blinking to clear the sleep out of his eyes. “You’ve just been reading?” he asks, eyeing the book that I’ve dropped on the arm of the sofa. 

I nod. “You’ve been asleep for a while,” I say. 

Simon smiles at me in a way that I know he’s glad I stayed but he doesn’t have the words to tell me. (I love that look). He scoots over on the couch and reaches out his hand to me. I grab it and lace my fingers carefully through his. 

I’ve gotten quite skilled at recognizing Simon’s looks so when he glances at me with a slight furrow in his brow and tightens his grip on my hand, I know that this is as far as he can handle today. 

And that’s fine. 

Just being here with him is enough. 


End file.
